Letters to Lucas
by The.Beautiful.And.The.Damned
Summary: Brooke's letters to Lucas. Her love for him consumes her summer. Three up. Enjoy!
1. The One Thing Keeping Me From Missing U

-LETTERS TO LUCAS-

_**The One Thing Keeping Me From Missing You**_

A/N: I'm not typically a Brucas writer, although I do like the pairing, so please just allow yourself to enjoy a great love story if you don't like the coupling. Also, I know that a lot of the stuff I mention in the letter (eg. Luc telling Brooke that he is meant for her) has not actually happened when Brooke writes the letters, but I felt to put it in, and when you're writing in the moment, you can't afford to let an opportunity like that slip away. Also, I have written this as a one shot, but it may end up becoming something longer if I feel to do that. I guess it all depends on reviews! So please, relax, read, review… and I'll love you! 

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing One Tree Hill. Sadly :(

* * *

Dear Lucas, 

I wish I could miss you. I honestly do.

But I can't.

Because in the end, I just remember that I'm missing what I _thought_ I had- and that was love… and you can't miss something you never had.

I seriously miss the way you looked at me with those deep, blue eyes. And the way you were constantly brooding, instead of being consumed by the materialism of all that was important to me. I loved the way you dreamt of something more… and I _hated_ that you found that in my best friend.

I loved the way that you told me I was meant for you- and the way I melted under your adoring gaze. I loved the way that I was your 'pretty girl,' but most of all, I just loved being _your_ girl, and loving you back.

I loved the way you cupped my face in your hands when we kissed, and how every imaginable spark between us was magical- no kiss was anything less than extraordinary.

I miss having nothing meaningless in my life, and having the beauty in the simplicity of all things pointed out to me. I miss appreciating the beauty because of you.

I miss the profound way you viewed life, and being able to look beyond what outfit I am going to wear the following day… and before then; I miss watching the sunset in your arms.

I miss cheering for you, and actually caring about how _you_ felt after every game. I miss caring about anything beyond myself.

I miss thinking you loved me, and _knowing_ **I loved you**, and thinking I had a completely trustworthy best friend.

I miss trusting that friend.

And anybody, for that matter.

But especially you.

But I don't miss _you_.

I can't.

Because missing you would mean missing having my heart broken. Like missing the rose you toss to the ground because of it's thorns, I've got to leave you behind – because this will _always_ be a part of you.

I can't miss love, because I never had it.

What I had was a blind, unrealistic, _ideal _of love that nobody ever wants to be burdened with.

And I can't be sorry for that.

I won't be.

Because _you_ should be.

But even if you were, there would be nothing left. And that's _your_ fault.

I'd love to miss you.

Hell, I _do_ miss who I thought you were.

And I miss believing that the person I stupidly fell head over heels for, was _really_ the person he made himself out to be.

I wish I could see you again. I wish I could look into your eyes…

And tell you how god-damn-freaking much you **killed **me, Lucas.

I wish I could be so honest as to tell you that I truly spent the whole summer missing you, and wishing I was with you.

But the one thing keeping me from missing you is fear.

Because I can't let my heart be broken again, Lucas. From you, or anyone.

I just can't.

_**

* * *

**__**B. Davis**_

**Reviews welcomed! Please let me know what you think and you just might get to read some more!**

**Love Gabbi :)**


	2. Almost Like Normal

**A/N: **Random idea for a letter woke me up after midnight, and I just had to write it, regardless of whether this is supposed to be a one-shot or not. Thanks to reviews, I've decided to add a little about Brooke's summer into each letter, but the general idea is that Brooke's mind is consumed by her love for Lucas all holidays, therefore ruining her time away from Tree Hill. Her emotions towards the situation are brought out through her letters, which are basically her whole summer anyway. I don't mean to be boring with only the letters for the story, but that was the idea of writing them. Lyrics are 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol, and I apologise for them being used out-of-order, but they make better sense in the fic this way. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and Gabbi for her great opinions as ever. Gabbi xx

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing One Tree Hill. Nor any of the lyrics, which are courtesy of Snow Patrol. Sadly 

-LETTERS TO LUCAS-

_**Almost Like Normal**_

_Brooke Davis struggled to make her way through the door of her beach front apartment, juggling her beach bag, towel and many shopping purchases in her bronzed arms._

_She'd spent the whole day out again, trying to forget all that she was missing in Tree Hill… trying to forget Lucas, and the whole situation regarding him. Her whole summer had been turned into a lie because of all that had happened before she left. She wished that she could be truly having fun._

_As she placed her purchases and towel on the bed (unconcerned as to the wet state of her towel) and removed the designer sunnies from her head, she gave a sigh of relief; another day in paradise was over, and she had never wanted to be home again more._

_Resigned to the fact that she needed to write another letter, as it had been all that she had thought about since she first woke in the morning… every morning- all summer… she adjusted her sarong and made her way over to the small desk in the corner of the apartment._

_Reaching over to the stereo with her right hand, she flicked the 'on' switch as her left grabbed a piece of blank writing paper. _Dejavu.

_As Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars' burst through the surround-sound speakers in the small room, Brooke bent over the desk and began to write._

Dear Lucas

You know, it seems that no matter how many gorgeous bodies I see here everyday, and how many opportunities for meaningless hook-up sessions arise, our past relationship has left me craving more. It's like, because I had you, and our time together _without_ dramas (in the form of conniving blonde emo girls) was so amazing, I learned to truly love for the first time in my life. And now I am barely able to see the point in anything less.

_**Those three words**_

Then again, what did our love ever mean? It's like a fleeting moment in a second in time, in retrospect. But if I'm honest with myself- it meant so much more to me.

And I guess that's why I fell so hard.

_**Are said too much**_

I mean seriously, how quickly did I realize that our relationship was so much deeper than any I've ever experienced?

How quickly did you let those three words slip?

'Love' was not a thing I took lightly, Luc.

God, I remember how many times you geld me in your warm embrace and whispered them in my ear. I could only snuggle closer in response… it was really too much for me.

_**They're not enough**_

And yet apparently they truly were too much, because they were good enough for Peyton as well… few and far between _our_ meetings.

Now, whenever I find myself dreaming of being in your arms again, I wake to the nightmare of them having been poisoned by another's love.

Actions speak louder than words. I knew that. Why didn't I remember that?

God, if only I'd remembered it.

_**Forget what we're told**_

You know, perhaps the ridicule we faced when we first started seeing each other was right.

Ignorance on our part took place over our weakness in what I now realise was something I was a lot better acquainted with: lust.

_**Before we get too old**_

Living for the moment was great while it lasted, but in the end it was just a moment, right?

And every moment has it's ending; that's what you don't remember… or _want_ to remember… at the start.

_**I need your grace**_

_**To remind me**_

_**To find my own**_

The thing was, I thought I needed you.

Because I trusted you. You seemed to be the same person, no matter what.

I thought I knew you, because I let you into my heart and I let you get to know _me_. I was naked in front of you, Luc. Stripped bare by raw emotion. I allowed you to see the real me, and that's something I never let any guy see before.

I thought you saw what I needed better than even I did, and tried to become whatever that was. I thought you were the missing piece… the love I craved.

And you were… for a while.

_**I don't quite know**_

_**How to say**_

_**How I feel**_

In the end, my summer's ruined because I learnt what I need from a relationship- and I know that I can't find it here.

I guess- I don't wish I had _you_.

Or rather, the lying, cheating scumbag version of you, who ripped my heart out and spat it on the ground. Because I could _never_ love _him_ again.

But I _do_ wish I could find someone who loves me the way I felt loved by you, before everything else.

Because I loved that- it felt almost like normal for a while. Pure desperation led me to believe that we had something more.

So for now, my life is just a search for something more again.

And I'm content with that.

At least, for now.

_**B. Davis**_

_Finding an envelope in the mess of papers on the desk, Brooke placed the letter inside, and sealed the envelope smoothly before stashing it with the others in the box under her bed._

_Turning her stereo up, she wondered whether she hadn't _totally _contradicted herself at the end of the letter. _

_Was she content?_

_Shrugging her shoulders and heading for the bathroom, she decided that she would have to live a little more before she knew that answer to that._

_**All that I am**_

_**All that I ever was**_

_**Was here in your perfect eyes**_

_**They're all I can see**_

**Please R&R… if you like this format, I **_**will **_**write more…**

**Love Gabbi ******


	3. Becoming Brooke

**A/N: **I know it's been ages, I just haven't been in the 'Letters to Lucas' mood. I hope this makes up for it. Will try and get another few up in the next couple of weeks.

Love. The. Holidays.

This is my Easter pressie to all L2L fans.

I hope you're still there!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but a way more complex version of the twisted mind of the one and only Brooke Davis herself. If I owned One Tree Hill, I wouldn't be writing this.

_Brooke lay in a muddled heap of the finest quality sheets money could buy, in the best room the motel had to offer, her eyes glued together by sleep and her hair in a tangled mop attached however unfortunately, to her head._

_Her night had been one of pure restlessness, yet again. The previous days had brought fun to her doorstep- free of charge, but somehow she found herself able to pick it up again and again, regardless of the fact that she knew how she would feel when she woke up again. _

_The nameless hook-ups were nothing more to her than they were to the recipients, as it had always been before him. The drinks were still a little harmless fun, but their 'harm' was not so 'fun' anymore; the effect being a feeling of tremendous guilt every morning after. _

_And then the guilt turned to shame. Then anger. At him- for making her allow herself to feel this way because of him. _

_And then she usually ended up cleaning the sleep from her face with the tears falling relentlessly from her encrusted eyes. _

_Before she realised that there was certainly more for her than this, in life. And that she had to search it out. So she woke and made the same mistakes persistently every day._

_Subsequently, the pile of letters hidden in the secret compartment of her divine motel four-poster grew considerably in number as did the amount of anonymous no-accounts behind her._

_This morning was no different than any of the others she had woken to in the previous week; but she stopped before she opened her eyes this time. _

_She didn't sit up, and she didn't allow herself the guilty pleasure of feeling the effects of last night's hangover. She didn't feel anything. She was numb with the constant pain in her heart, keeping her from the one thing she truly desired more than anything- to be free from this feeling was to settle things with him, though, and she wasn't sure if she quite had enough strength to do that yet, much like the fact that she couldn't actually see herself removing her slumping figure from the comfort of her bed any time soon._

_Completely against her own will, she unknowingly began composing her next letter in her mind, her dream-like state giving consent to the needs of her sub-conscious (and though she fully intended to deny it, her conscious) and forcing her to face the inevitable task of dealing with everything she wished she could put behind her._

Dear Lucas,

This is torture.

My holiday has become my hell.

A hell in which I am engrossed by thoughts of you, evolving my usual idea of paradise into some sort of dread-worthy duty.

The surfers strutting by me are merely another chore, I swear it, Lucas.

Along with the parties and the alcohol and of course- the new clothes.

But retail therapy dries up eventually, and it becomes just another way to pass the time in which my heart is aching for you. Because it _is_, no matter how hard I try to hide it.

Every time I wake up, every time I get dressed and every time I go out, I'm waking up to no one, getting dressed for nothing and going out meaninglessly.

I miss the meaning my life held when I was with you.

I want to wake up beside you, get dressed to look good for you, and go out _with _you, Luc.

I want to have you in my life, because I want my life to be filled again.

For now, this holiday is just an empty shell of what could have been if you were here with me, or if I had stayed with you.

My parents are gone as usual, I haven't known where they've been ever since I arrived here. But they've never been there. I got used to that from a young age.

But that took me years.

It only took me a few weeks to get used to having you around, Luc; but when I did get used to it, I never wanted you to leave. I never dreaded your return.

I got scared because I became so close to you so quickly. But I loved it nonetheless. It felt right with you. It was something that was always meant to happen.



I never want to forget what happened between us.

Because then my days would be exactly what they _have_ been over these holidays- useless.

Worthless.

I saw my worth through your eyes when I was with you, and I began to actually like who I was for the first time in my life.

I mean, I'm Brooke Davis- I've always loved my life; the money, the mansion, the car, the clothes- all the props of being a spoilt expensive rich kid. I loved the sheer materialism of my life. I loved the surface.

I hated being below it.

I hated looking at myself as the person behind all of the 'stuff' that my life evolved around, because I became nothing.

But then I had you, Lucas. And you showed me my worth, and I loved you for it.

Perhaps what I miss is being able to like who I am, rather than who I was when I was with you.

I just wish I could find a way back to being that person, without being with you.

Because I can't be with you.

Because you were with _her_ when I was with _you_. And she was supposed to be on my side. And you were supposed to be on my side.

But there weren't ever any real 'sides,' just the slips and turns of everyday life.

Love found.

Love lost.

And unwitting entity, I fell into the 'Lucas Scott' trap, of finally becoming a person, rather than a higher being.

I 'did' life. I could never 'be' life.

I wasn't defined by 'things,' I was defined by people.

And usually, it was _her_ who brought me back down to earth.

I guess I allowed you to find that in each other, and fall for it.

Hell, if I'm honest with myself- _she_ had you all along.

You saw yourself through each others eyes, as I did with you, but this time- you saw each other again.



I need someone in my life to define me as a person.

At the moment, my life is parties and hangovers and… writing these letters… to you.

And now I realise, you've still got me.

These letters are a 'broody' reflection of the 'cheer' you saw in me.

Perhaps you love being able to love yourself, Lucas.

See, in the same way I found a way to like myself through you; you saw yourself before you, and you rushed to discover everything you loved in someone.

You made me into a shadow of her, and I discerned between us the fact that, no matter who you were with, you were always going to be able to make them a part of you. I wanted to be a part of you, because it was that part of me that I grew to love. I grew to love the you I found within myself through you, essentially.

Wow, confusing much? Do I love myself, or you, or do you love you, or _her_… or me?

Did you ever love _me_, Luc?

Or was I always just a figure to be moulded?

Did I need to be moulded before you could love me?

Now I see; I needed to be moulded. I needed to find something within me that was worth more than everything of 'worth' around me.

I needed to learn to see people for who they truly are, rather than what brand of clothes they wear.

Haley wore a poncho when Nathan fell in love with her. I guess it's kind of like that for us.

I'll always wear the clothes I wear, drive the expensive car I drive, live in the mansions I've grown accustomed to… I'll always have money, but I'll lose the better person I know I can be if I allow myself to be defined by such.

I can't regret loving you, Lucas. Because if I hadn't loved you, I would have continued to be a selfish existence caught in the popularity rut- forever.

But you came from nothing (figuratively speaking- I mean compared to m… I'm talking about money, ok?) and you rose up and somehow you set yourself above popularity and made everyone see you as a human being.

It was that, more than anything, which made me see that simply 'being' isn't enough. We can't 'live' without finding a way to see beyond what we live with. We can't be defined by those around us, or what 'stuff' we have.



Therefore, we must become _people_. We must struggle to live. We must fight to survive. And we must learn through our battles, who we are. And most importantly- _who we have to be_.

So you made me understand the most vital lesson of my life, Lucas- who I am.

And I think I fell in love with the joy you made me feel whenever I was with you- because you didn't look at my wealth, or my popularity- you wanted to see what was on the inside; what counted above all.

I'd never had anyone do that.

And now that I'm back to living without it, I realise that I don't like it at all.

I want someone to be with me, and to love me for who I am.

But here, I'm just another tanned object of affection for the surfies to pervert their mind with. (You know it's true).

I don't have you.

I don't have _her_.

And I don't have _anyone_ to make me see who I am underneath.

No one wants to see her.

No one is even the slightest bit interested in her.

Because everyone here is escaping real life for a while. No one wants to have to look beneath the surface, because it's too much effort. And no one wants to even try to see beyond, because they're all scared they're not going to like it.

Or perhaps that's just me.

I don't want someone to love me like you did, or love me for what you loved me for, again.

Because I want you to love me.

But you don't.

You love _her_.

You loved _her_ all along.

So I don't know how to feel.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know who I am, or what my worth is, because my boyfriend, my best friend… and even my parents… are gone.



The Brooke Davis you saw in me, left with them.

She's not there when you're not.

And her ghost is all that remains, wishing you could revive her into being.

And to tell her that 'being' is good.

**B. Davis**

_Somewhere along the last few lines, Brooke drifted off into a sleep._

_He visited her in her sleep sometimes._

_It was good for a few moments._

_And then her clothes weighed her down as he walked towards her, and her was tugged back by the arm of her best friend._

_She sunk as she watched the two people she loved most in the world, love each other before her._

_And it killed her._

**Ok, so perhaps the ending is a little too 'emo?'**

**But it kind of felt right to put it in.**

**Note: She's not actually dead. This is a literary term called a 'metaphor'.**

**I'll stop being patronizing now… I don't know why I was in the first place.**

**Again, I'm so, so, so, so sorry for my lack of motivation with these letters. I hope this is good enough, and that they continue to be good enough… or perhaps even a little better…**

**Reviews welcomed back with open arms!**

**Gabbi xx**


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